


Of Scratchy Records and Tomatoes

by Entropyrose



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Curtain Fic, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Songfic, Total Fluff, cute!Steve, grumpy!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:57:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entropyrose/pseuds/Entropyrose
Summary: As soon as Bucky heard the scratchy, familiar song of a bygone era playing a few doors below, he knew it would come to this. He had been out on the deck, minding his own business, enjoying a well-earned cigarette when...





	

_Heaven, I’m in Heaven,_   
_And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak;_   
_And I seem to find the happiness I seek_   
_When we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek._

Bucky glanced down at the hand being held out to him. He felt the heat rush to his face, and did his very best to hide it with a dry snicker. “Yer kidding, right?”

Staring down at him with impish, sparkling eyes was a grinning, muscled blond. The hand came closer. “C’mon, Buck.”

As soon as Bucky heard the scratchy, familiar song of a bygone era playing a few doors below, he knew it would come to this. He had been out on the deck, minding his own business, enjoying a well-earned cigarette when...

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes…” Steve deliberately pronounced every word, his grin spreading. “Would you honor me with this dance?” Steve’s voice was sultry, soft and nearly successful in its persuasion.

“Give it up.” Bucky half-heartedly swatted his hand away.

“Buck,” Steve said. It was practically a whine. His face fell, those sad blue eyes working their magic in the light of a flickering flood-lamp that swung precariously over their heads.

Bucky let out a defeated growl that told Steve he had won, rolling his head back on the lawn chair and snuffing out his half-smoked cigarette. He was hauled up before the ashes could settle, one wide step landing him in the center of the cramped concrete rooftop. “I feel ridiculous,” Bucky muttered into Steve’s bicep as the strong arms curled around him. Like a buoy in the middle of the ocean, Bucky’s body was swept up in the happy torrent that was Steve.

All around them was the earthy scent of tomatoes: Steve had insisted on planting them the same week they bought the place, and already they were starting to ripen—the green bulbs giving way to a fatter, brighter red. For a moment, Bucky could close his eyes and rumple his nose into the crook of Steve’s neck and just breathe. How long had they fought for this? How many years…?

_Oh, I love to climb a mountain,_   
_And reach the highest peak,_   
_But it doesn’t thrill me half as much_   
_As dancing cheek to cheek._

Bucky sniffed out a laugh when Steve’s head pressed tight against his and he stole a quick kiss right by his ear.

“What’s funny?”

“Just wonderin’….” Bucky stared into those glittering, impish eyes. “…when you got so cocky.”

“I’d like to think I learned from the master.” Steve’s aftershave danced in Bucky’s nostrils as their lips pressed together.

“Fair warning. If you try to dip me, you’re going to get a metal fist in your teeth.”

“Promises, Promises.”


End file.
